A Bond Broken by Time
by dietcokemaniac
Summary: America and England have had a long history together. Some memories are good...some are not. A story about the relationship between the two brothers before 1776 and how it came to a tragic ending for both of them. Rated K  for the ending angst.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, all! Dietcokemaniac has come back with a couple of new stories! This one is about America and England basically reminiscing about what was their relationship. It is set during the revolutionary war. ENJOY! Hetalia is so cool…OK, I'm done now. Seriously. Right now.

Big Brother!

America loved how his big brothers' baritone voice lulled him to sleep. Curled up in his elder's lap, America knew that he would fall asleep to the sound of the tales of Peter Pan tonight. The crickets outside formed a choir amongst the twinkling lights of fireflies. It was like a salute to the summer skies above.

Inside their grand home of marble and stone, England and the small child America were under the covers of England's bed. The nightly ritual of bed time stories had begun.

"And so, Wendy looked after the lost boys as she would her own children, cleaning them, clothing them, and singing them lullabies,"

England read softly, smiling as America curled up and closed his eyes.

"England?"

America interrupted the reading, not much to England's surprise.

"Oh, what is it?"

England asked, brushing the wild, dirty blonde strands out of America's sleepy eyes.

"Do you think that one day, I could live like the lost boys? Live outside, I mean. It's just so…vast out there. I want to explore new places and expand my world. I know that if you think I'm grown up enough, you'll let me!"

"Shhh…no more of that."

England shushed America after a while, holding his much prized younger brother to his breast.

"America, don't speak so rashly. I know that you are quite the ruffian already. You romp through the gardens as though they are your own forest. I couldn't imagine you living on your own, though, being so small…now, to bed with you, you are very tired,"

England lectured quietly. America put the usual pout on his face but didn't protest as England turned off the lamp next to their bed and fell asleep. America stayed awake for just a while longer, listening to the crickets and imagining just what lay beyond the gates surrounding the estate of England.

Into the night, America dreamt of building his own home in the wilderness, hunting for beasts and swimming in the cool oceans of the world.

* * *

><p>England beamed upon America as he eagerly tore the shining wrapping paper off of his Christmas present. He knew that after all of his hard work in hand-making every piece in the set, America would appreciate his elder brother's gift of a toy-soldier army.<p>

"WOW! I can keep this?"

America beamed, picking up each piece and examining it closely.

"Yes, remember, I did make this just for you. I also got quite a few splinters..."

England laughed lightheartedly as America hugged him tightly, thanking him profusely.

"The soldiers are all different! This is so cool! Let's play with them!"

England chuckled and nodded, sitting next to America on the oriental carpet by the large Christmas lined up half of the soldiers on his side and America put his soldiers in a square-with every soldier on the outermost edge facing out.

"Why that's very clever, America. You've adapted the Infantry Square formation of ancient Rome!"

"I'll win for sure now!"

America beamed, his blue eyes sparkling. As the brothers passed the morning playing with the soldier set, a pretty sight of a white Christmas swirled outside, blanketing the earth with snow. England saw his little brother growing, and he knew that the age old question would come again some day.

For now, though, England took pride in watching little America learning so rapidly, expanding his horizons by the day. England truly adored America, and he would stop at nothing to satisfy his younger brother's wishes. In the years to come, however, those wishes would become unbearable.


	2. Chapter 2

Walk in His Footsteps

America tired of having to follow the strict rules set by England. Under England's roof, he had to make sure that he was always tidy, timely, and a gentleman. Although England's lessons about each of these subjects were not unwelcome, they were certainly redundant after a few years. England had started to teach America about the 'proper way' to behave when he was about five. Now, the list of rules seemed endless.

In his room, America was pondering about the possibility of moving out that day when England came in, carrying a tuxedo.

"Ah, there you are! I have a surprise for you!"

America, by now, had learned that one of England's 'surprises' constituted another lecture about being ever the gentleman. America bit his tongue as England laid out the clothing on his bed, waiting for his younger brother's response. It wasn't the ecstatic gratitude that he had expressed as a young child playing with toy soldiers.

"Oh, neat. A suit?"

"Yes, I insist that you start dressing more properly! Other people see the way you dress and...it's quite unseemly for a relative of England to dress as a pauper."

"Oh...OK..."

America got dressed behind his closet door while England waited patiently. America looked at himself in the full length mirror of his room before turning to see a proud smile on his elder brothers' face.

"What a gentleman! I knew that this would suit you better than the rags you insist on sporting all of the time!"

"Hey, England?"

England stopped smiling to answer any question that America might have for him. He knew that as America got older, the questions kept coming like waves. He had learned to answer him promptly and certainly. But the question that America had for England that morning was not going to be answered so promptly.

"I wanted to ask...how about I move out?"

America felt a swell of anxiety in his heart as he asked this. England froze for a minute, taking time to process the question that seemed so abrupt.

"W-Why, out?"

"Yes, I was thinking that...I could leave this house and live separately from you. I would still be your brother, I just want to start working for myself and supporting myself,"

America explained, the collar of his tuxedo growing tight and hot. England started to do something that America had abhorred as a child: he started to pace. It was most unnerving for America as a child, for after a few minutes of silent pacing of his brother, America knew taht the answer to whatever question he did have that day wouldn't be answered or would be answered in the negative.

"I-I think that, as a growing man, you should decide upon that yourself, America. I have no right to...oh..."

England sat down, shaking slightly. America, growing concerned now, pulled up a chair next to the ailing man.

"You...were so small when I first found you. I really have watched you grow to quickly."

"England, are you OK?"

"Yes, just let me _think _man!"

England snapped, not thinking about his tone. America immediately took his hand off of England's shoulder and backed away.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that outburst...but you really must consider what you are asking. I have to think about this...just give me a few days."

America hated that answer, but he knew better than to push his luck that afternoon. He spent the next few days helping England with as much as he could in order to gain a favorable answer. The next day, he would get one.

* * *

><p>As the clock in America's bedroom chimed the hour, England slumped his shoulders, put his hand on his brow, and sighed. He was leaning on the door way to America's bedroom, simply wishing the chimes away.<p>

The 'few days' had passed, and America knew that England would give him a well thought out answer to the age old question. As England took a seat by America on his bed. America could just imagine the answer he had in store for him.

_"It's just not going to happen today! You may be older than you once were, but I am your elder brother, and it is my duty to care for you, America."_

England's voice interrupted the imaginary scenario in America's head.

"Alright, America. It is difficult for me to see you do this, but I want you to know that I approve of you expanding your horizons and finding a living for yourself. But you must follow some rules."

_As always._

America thought, straightening his back to listen to the oncoming lecture. He watched as England got off of his bed and pulled a chair up to sit across from America, who was now fully alert.

"Firstly, it is most important that I support you in some way. Whether you want me to lend you money, resources, or even some tools to help you build a home, you should still rely on me to some degree."

"Sounds good so far."

America muttered, watching as England's mind began to work in the way it usually did during a lecture.

"Another thing, you have to obey the basic rules of respect that you have learned from me in these past ten years. It is not unlike you to...stray once in a while, but I really am counting on you to be a proper man while living on your own."

America waited for the final rule that England had to lay down, practically itching to jump forth from his chair and start packing bags.

"Finally, you must learn the value of money. I will trust you with money that I have made and give you your own amount to start your home with. The rest of the while, you should know that I expect you to pay me for some of the tools I will give you. You must learn that with freedom comes hard work, and that any kind of freedom is not truly free for the taking."

America watched as England extended his hand for a shake and looked America square in the eye.

"I agree to your terms, England."

America shook his elder brother's hand firmly, nodding once as England let go of his hand and left America to pack his bags. But right before England walked out of the room, America had one thing to say to him before his departure for the new world that awaited him outside.

"Hey, England?"

"Yes, America?"

"I wanted to thank you...for not binding me to walk in your footsteps and letting me live my own life outside of these four walls."

England nodded and walked away without another word, feeling his stomach twisting all the while. He would regret this terribly, and he knew it.


	3. Chapter 3

The Cost of Freedom

As America built his house day by day, the sweat on his brow and the sun beating on his back reminded him of England's lecture about freedom the month before. After traveling for two weeks, America had found a beautiful, large forest to start his new home in. It was everything he had imagined as a child, but he knew that in order to further gain England's approval, he would have to work to make a home out of it. He decided to start with his own house.

As the months flew by, he started to invent new things to help him trade with other countries and further expand his knowledge of the world beyond England's rule. England was not unkind to him. England gave him protection from larger countries that wanted to steal his resources, inventions of his own to further help America build his home in the new world, and the same brotherhood that had existed under his own roof.

But one day, America started to think to himself about how England seemed to be overbearing at times. Just last week, England gave America another law regarding taxes on already expensive goods. America appreciated what England had done for him, but he was starting to feel rather irked by the constant payments he had to make to England.

_If England is my elder brother, shouldn't he be able to realize that I can't pay for all of this? I'm starting to get low on money even though I'm working hard for it. Maybe I should talk to him..._

But money wasn't the only concern for America now. England had been sending in his own soldiers to the new world so that he might keep an eye on America. This unsettled him to some degree, because these soldiers were not always pleasant towards him. He was expecting older brother to visit any day now, and he made the preparations, seething all the while.

* * *

><p>When England paid a visit to America in the following days, he didn't greet him with a brotherly embrace as expected.<p>

"Ah, my younger brother! What, are you not glad to see me? I've come a long way, you know!"

America looked to his elder brother and realized now more than ever the distinct difference between the two men. America had tanned and grown rugged from his hard work and efforts to make a good home for himself, but England seemed unaware of such labors. As long as America had known England, he had been a rich elder brother who had the world at his fingertips.

_Does my brother know of the sweat and blood that I have poured into making this home?_

"Come on, now, chap, tell me what it is. We can talk over tea!"

America swallowed his pride and courteously sat down to tea with England, who was as wealthy and clean kept as ever. America knew that he had to be polite, but slowly he was starting to grind his teeth and pinch his lips together in a tense line. England took notice and grew concerned.

"England, it was nice of you to visit."

"Yes, I believe that it is very good for us to meet once in a while. Talk about how you're fairing and all that."

"Oh yes, speaking of how I'm fairing, I wanted to ask you a few questions."

England, sensing the edge to America's voice, listened patiently. He was not unused to America having _something _to object his views. Even as a child, America was a challenge to reason with. He simply had to ask questions and insist on change. England saw no reason for it; he had been powerful and wealthy for many years before he had taken the baby America under his wing.

"I was curious as to how much money you think I have left."

"P-Pardon?"

"Yeah, you heard me. You're draining my accounts! I...I don't understand what you need all of my money for! Didn't you send me over here with that money so that I could spend it as i saw fit?"

England, immediately knowing the answer, responded promptly.

"Why, yes, I do recall giving you that money, but I must remind you of a few things first."

"OK, let's hear them."

"I will if you keep your head. I know that you can be feisty at times, America, but really, let's not be unpleasant."

"Very well."

America gritted his teeth and waited for England's answer. It seemed like eternity before England spoke calmly, ignoring his younger brother's scowl.

"You see, I have more affairs to attend to than simply supporting you, America. I have wars that I have fought, debts to pay, and a home of my own to keep up. I have struggled with more than you have at this point, and quite frankly, I have spared you the details of my suffering over the years for your own protection."

America, seeing little logic or satisfaction in his elder brother's answer, pushed farther.

"You know, I don't appreciate you keeping an eye on me like you did when I was five."

"And what might that mean? I haven't so much as visited you more than twice a year, America. You're getting quite irrational-"

"Let me tell you what irrational is, England! Having your soldiers in my home! What is this? I'm capable of...I _built _the home you're drinking tea in!"

"And I built the grand mansion that you lived in until you moved out."

"I know that! My question is about the soldiers that are scuttling about my home like lobsters!"

England at this point grew cross and decided to change the subject to something that he knew America wouldn't stand to hear. He had to, though, in order to make America see things his way.

"You know that I had to place reinforcements here because of the incidents, America."

"Oh, stop it! What are you talking about?"

America shouted, losing all composure as a gentleman to win this fight. England would have none of that, though, and narrowed his emerald orbs at the unruly younger brother.

"Now you listen, America! I shan't have any of this brash behavior from you! You know very well that the tea crates on that ship didn't toss themselves into Boston Harbor! You know very well that when you act like a child, you should expect to be treated like one! Have you any idea where that tea you hacked up carelessly came from? CHINA."

England scolded, putting his tea cup down and standing up after America. He drew close to his younger brother, bronzed from the sun and rebellious, and gave him a set of consequences and a warning.

"Now, America, you know that I run a tight ship. You know that such destructive behavior is most unbecoming of you! I am disappointed to say in the least!"

Before England could get out another word, America tossed the tea pot over the edge of the table and smirked in his face.

"That's what I think of your taxed tea from CHINA, England."

"You dare to challenge me? Have you gone _mad_, America? Very well then. Expect no more imports or exports from your precious harbors. And as for the 'lobsters' scuttling about your home...expect them by the crates in the next few months. I can assure you that things will not be pleasant for you if you treat me like this. After all...your 'home' wouldn't be here,"

England snarled as he got up to leave,

"Without my generosity."

As England left, dignified and formal as he came after straightening his tie, he heard America shout something after him that made him pause for a moment in his strides toward his royal fleet.

"No taxation without representation! That's why your tea was in my harbor! Expect your lobsters to be cooked!"

England smirked and strode towards his ship without any further communication to his hotheaded America. He would expect another attitude from his younger brother by the time the year ended. Having soldiers in his home and his communications with other countries cut off would be most character changing.


	4. Chapter 4

Apology Rejected

America's home was different than a year ago. Among the soldiers crawling about the grand corridors and stationed in every other room, there were posters with bullets in them from angered British soldiers plastered to the walls. The posters had a snake, hacked into pieces, scrawled across them with the bold statement of the patriots beneath.

_JOIN OR DIE._

The soldiers, half of them fearing for their lives and the other half infuriated with America's impudence towards England's crown, were as jittery as ever, growing more aggressive by the day and binding America tightly so that he couldn't wipe them out as easily as he used to._  
><em>

England had not bothered to visit his rebellious brother for a few years now, simply because he knew that it would be worse than useless. England had responded to America's ever increasing violence and temper with the expected discipline of an elder brother. He had further restricted America and had increased the taxes to ridiculous degrees in order to somehow prompt a change in attitude.

But judging by the posters that America had sent him to spite him, snakes and Patriot sayings scrawled beneath, England knew that this could only mean that inevitable war was coming. But England also knew that America wasn't completely rebellious and violent towards him. For a small portion of America was still loyal to England's crown.

A small portion of America was still buying the tea and glass and paint that England had made and shipped to him. In England's eyes, his younger brother was struggling terribly with this demon of hatred and rebellion. He simply had to break the demon and save the little brother that he loved so dearly.

England reclined in a chair in his lonely mansion, recalling how America used to be as an adventurous child.

_America had been running as fast as he could, but to no avail. Big brother England was after him, and he knew that he couldn't be saved once he had him in his grasp. England was known by little America for his relentless tickling. _

_"Don't think that I won't catch you, little one! I'm faster than you!"_

_"Yeah? Prove it!"_

_America had challenged in his adorable falsetto voice, his feet rustling through the well-kept grasses of England's large yard. England had decided to let America wear himself out before executing a plan most devious. He reclined comfortably as America raced in zigzags about the yard before tiring himself out and collapsing by the grand oak tree. _

_Like a snake, England slithered through the grass behind America, who was already panting and ready for bath and bed. He shouted loudly, startling the poor boy, and dug his fingers into his sides, bellowing all the while over America's squeals upon being tickled._

_"'Prove it!' You said, 'prove it!' I am proving it, and I can assure you, America, you won't be able to draw breath by the time I've finished with you!"_

England looked outside to the setting sun now as the flashback faded away. America's childish squeals did, too, and he realized, with a growing pain in his heart, that those days were inevitably over. America was too aggressive now. There would be no child's play from now on.

* * *

><p>One afternoon, England received an Olive Branch Petition from the fearful Continental Congress. He knew that somewhere inside America, a fearful little brother was waiting for a full-blown war with Great Britain. As he scanned the petition, England knew that he had to respond quickly. He decided to write a letter back to America and give him two choices.<p>

_This should give him a good idea of how I do business. Fair but firm. We shall see how America responds. For his sake, I only hope that he chooses the second option over war._

* * *

><p>America dropped the note in a state of shock. His brother had become stern in the past few years to say in the least, but this response was just absurd.<p>

_To America,_

_If it does concern you to maintain the peace between us, I would like to tell you first and foremost that you must comply with my tax requests, trading restrictions, and laws. You must also stop harassing and killing my soldiers who are serving me in watching you and keeping control of your home. _

_For the loyalist portion of you, I can only say that it would be a pity for me to have to send in my armed forces to battle you. The Patriots are dominating America, however, and I find this to be appalling and dangerous to my rule over you. It would be a pity indeed for the loyalist's homes to be torn asunder in the midst of the inevitable battle that the Patriots will instigate._

_To the Patriots, I must say that after everything that I have given you (protection, finances, trades, and advanced technology to name a few of those things) this rebellion is the worst way to end our relationship. You have already proven, through multiple violent episodes to show your resistance to my laws, that you are not interested in peace between America and Great Britain, but instead wish to become violent and instigate a war. I will gladly take up arms to defend the armed forces that I have sent to restrict your activity, which violates the crown of England in every way. _

_I will therefore give you two options, America. I have seen, from your actions, that you are not pure pro-war, but you are rather conflicted. when one sees conflict within an individual, then it is best at that point to employ the 'carrot/stick' strategy. I will give you two possible responses to this letter, either of which will earn you a consequence. _

_The first response could be a peace treaty. Although our bonds are anything but stable, I know that they can be saved and healed over time. I, as much as the loyalist side of you, wish to be together and have a symbiotic relationship that benefits both sides. However, there is a second, and more likely response to this letter. It will earn you terrible consequences._

_Should you choose to continue your violent acts and protests against me, I shall be forced to engage in war with you, America. For several years now, you have given me valid reason to send ever increasing reinforcements to your home in order to keep the peace and prevent you from senselessly killing my original soldiers. Now that you have become increasingly violent and displayed noncompliance, I am on the verge of waging war. _

_ I hope that you consider this a final warning. I have drawn a thin line out of my patience for you, my younger brother. Never forget...that I helped you become the American colonies of Great Britain. _

_England._

Upon reading the last line in the note, America saw something that made him snap inside. In the envelope that England had sent the reply to the Olive Branch Petition in, a toy soldier, hand painted, rested. At this point, America was too enraged to respond to England's offer of peace. He tore the letter up and lit a fire in the hearth of his study. He tossed the wooden soldier in and started to make war plans.

_I'm not going to be his to control any longer. I'm going to become...the United States of America.  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5

Cloudy Skies

As the day drew to a close, Britain had already prepared his multitude of forces to be sent to America's shores. He knew, with a heavy heart, that his ruthless brother had to be subdued, his men saved, and the bond once treasured severed.

There was no moon or stars hanging over Britain that night; the clouds were gathering for a tremendous thunderstorm. He remembered sadly, as he boarded his ship in the Royal Navy Fleet, a time when America had run to him during these kinds of storms.

_Little America cowered in the corner of his darkened bedroom, hiding from the roaring thunder and flashing lightening outside. He whimpered as the licks of light flashed against his windowpane and thunder shook his small body. _

_In came England after knocking several times. Seeing his little brother curled up in the corner, England couldn't help but feel soft of heart. He made his way over to America, being careful not to startle him. _

_"E-England?"_

_"Yes, little one, I'm here."_

_"Th-The house...will the thunder shake it apart?"_

_England knew that to laugh at the absurdity of the question would be cruel, but had it been any other individual who asked it, he would have laughed wholeheartedly. Now was the time to comfort America, who was trembling like a leaf in the wind._

_"I'm here, America, and no, the house won't fall apart. This is a very sturdy building that's been standing here for many years now. How about we turn on some lights?"_

_"Well...OK."_

_America watched as his elder brother, fearless despite the horrible storms outside, strode over to the bed and flicked on the lamp beside it, casting light and shadow about the room. _

_"I was scared, too. When I was your age, thunder terrified me. But do you know what my father told me?"_

_America shook his head, allowing England to scoop him up and take him over to his bed._

_"He told me that when it's thundering, there are giant elephants having a party in heaven. He told me that the lightening was their version of fireworks."_

_America laughed a bit, starting to fear the thunder less and less as England continued to speak. _

_"And did you know that every time a thunder storm is over, new flowers can grow? Our garden will be very lush this year, filled with your favorite flowers because of the rain that's falling right now."_

_America continued to listen to the rain and the thunder, eventually calming down and falling asleep next to his elder brother, who had rocked him until he had closed his eyes. England took a look at America, feeling paternal pride and new affection towards the little boy he had taken under his wing._

As Lightening broke the heavens, England knew that it would be a rough few weeks at sea, making it all the way over to America's home. But he knew that he had to keep his side of the agreement; after months of no answer from America, he had to come in with his armed forces.

* * *

><p>Six weeks passed, and through stormy seas, the Royal Navy Fleet had made it to America's shores. England didn't expect the multitude of minutemen from America's army to be waiting for him, ships of their own at the ready.<p>

_And I am outnumbered. Fancy that._

England thought, watching over his redcoats as they clashed with the camouflaged Americans. It was a bloodbath to remember; the rains were welcomed to wash away the massive blood shed by both sides.

England immediately left his ship after the mass of fighting was over; England had only 200 soldiers out of the 3000 he had started with. The minutemen ware determined for freedom, and they would stop at nothing, England knew, to get it.

He trudged on for several days, his remaining soldiers clashing with American masses, each time knowing that they outnumbered his soldiers.

It was only a matter of time before he reached America's final line. Upon arriving at Yorktown, England knew that the few soldiers he did have left had to be spared; to subject them to the minutemen once more would be nothing short of brutal.

On this final night, when the skies were clouded and the rain was pouring down upon the men, England knew that this would end with his defeat. He had not come into this final battle to win, he had come to face America himself.

As England told his remaining forces to stand back as he confronted his younger brother, lightening licked the sky. Tremendous thunder shook the earth. He approached his younger brother, and the line of soldiers behind him, to have his final confrontation with him.

It broke England's heart when he saw, behind the sheet of rain, America brandishing a bayonet rifle aimed at his chest.

"Hey, Britain!"

America bellowed, his slender form tense with the anticipation of gunfire.

"After all of this...I want my freedom! I am no longer a child! I am no longer your little brother! You can't push me around any more!"

England suddenly felt a surge of emotion. His heart was being torn apart, and he couldn't stand the pain any longer. To save his younger brother from making the terrible decision of breaking bonds with him, England decided to dive into the line of soldiers alone.

His men stood behind him, shivering in their red coats and watching, astounded, as England charged America head on with his own rifle. With the cry of a war hero, England charged into America, bayonet brandished. Instead of mortally wounding America, England simply impaled America's rifle, sending it flying into the air.

Upon seeing this, America and England's armed forces aimed their rifles at each other. If England shot America, the minutemen behind him would shoot every man behind England, and then kill England last.

America, shocked by his elder brother's sudden advantage, simply listened in a frozen state to his brother's words.

"I WON'T ALLOW IT! YOU IDIOT! Why can't you ever see what you're doing to yourself, to US? I spared everything for you...everything! And...I just can't do it! I can't shoot my brother!"

England screamed, feeling wounded by his younger brother's ultimate betrayal. America simply stared in awe as his elder brother lost all composure and collapsed at his feet, sobbing. America would never admit it, even centuries later, but that sight brought him to tears as well.

Knowing that the rain would hide them, America let tears slide silently down his cheeks as Britain sobbed at his feet and asked him a heart-breaking question.

"WHY? DAMNIT, WHY?"

America furrowed his brow and looked upon his elder brother, sighing.

"You know why. I needed to grow. I needed my freedom. Don't you see? You promised me freedom and you gave me a prison."

Suddenly, England looked up into America's teary eyes. He didn't see that America was crying, but he knew that something was paining his younger brother. In an attempt to salvage the emotions of old times, when he was loved by America as a brother, England asked him something as though America were still five.

"What's wrong, young America?"

America felt the stab of guilt and responded honestly, as he would if he were younger and still under England's control.

"I remember when you were so great...and now, you're at my feet."

Without another word, England took a shuddering breath. He was soaked to the bone, miserable, tired, and broken. He surrendered to America, who let him and his remaining soldiers return to his land out of guilt.

* * *

><p>Loud whoops and screams of joy rang through the America's colonies. The war was won! No more redcoats quartered in their houses, no more king of England to shove taxes down their throats! They were now the United States of America, and nobody would mess with them after they had defeated the great British Royal Navy!<p>

As fireworks exploded across starry skies, America resided in his own bedroom, away from the colonists and minutemen. He had some thinking to do, and he felt a sense of aching.

He looked out at the skies, streaked by the fireworks and blaring with the sounds of cannons as he fell into the memory of his fifth birthday with England.

_England had a day of surprises set up for his little brother America. First, he had taken America out to the shores of his land and let him play along the beach. He had even taught America how to swim that day. _

_After that, he had taken America back to the mansion, prepared a cake, and eaten it with America outside by the large oak tree. England knew, but didn't tell America, that the best surprise was waiting for him that night, after his bath. _

_England was not unaccustomed to handling fireworks; he had learned many years ago from China how to put on a phenomenal show. As the sun set, England bathed and clothed little America and told him that the best part of his birthday was coming up. _

_"What's the best part? Tell me, please!"_

_"No, America, you should learn that surprises are a secret to be kept. I wouldn't be giving you a birthday surprise if I told you now, would I?"_

_America shook his head and remained silent for the rest of the hour_. _Finally, England took America's hand and told him to sit at the bay window of his room as he went outside. Shortly thereafter, the fireworks began and America watched, stunned._

_After the show was over, England returned, beaming. _

_"Did you enjoy the show?"_

_Instead of answering, America rushed into England's arms and giggled as he was carried up the stairs to bed. _

America snapped his eyes open to reality, sighing at the fond memory. Now, he would have to put on his own fireworks every Forth of July. He found himself perfectly content with that as one of the minutemen ran into his room and handed him a firecracker, dragging him out to the darkened but lively streets of his home land.


End file.
